The Monster Math Problem
by 1n-the-impala
Summary: Some monsters can't be hunted. Dean struggles in Calculus and Sam does his best to help. (Smart!Dean, pre-season brotherly bonding)


If there were two things Sam Winchester had always known about himself, they were that 1) He loved his brother (always first, before all else) and 2) He loved school.

Sam knew school meant something very different to him than to Dean. For him, it was an escape from a life he didn't want, a chance to discover that there was more out there than the family business. It was a place where his dreams were never considered impossible, never considered stupid. But for Dean, school was a distraction. Supporting and protecting the family was, in Dean's mind, the single most important focus of his time, more important than any grade or deadline for school. Sam figured it had been right after their Mom died when Dean had shouldered this responsibility, and ever since then, he'd carried the weight alone, with little to no assistance from their father.

If there were two things Sam had always known about his brother, they were that 1) He loved Sam and 2) He was stubborn. The task of taking care of their family had left Dean almost entirely self dependent, and completely unselfish. When put together, these traits had created one of the most stubborn beings on the planet as far as Sam was concerned. Most often Dean would sooner die than ask for help.

That was why Sam's head shot up out of his book the evening he heard Dean, who'd quietly been working on calculus, put down his pencil and say "Hey, Sam?"

Their family moved so often that Dean was on his third calculus teacher of the year, struggling to keep up in, incidentally, the very same class Sam had tested into that year. Sam knew taking calculus as a freshman was rare, but he found he was managing reasonably well. However, Dean's less favorable circumstances had left him unsure of the style and method of the current teacher. He was struggling, but too proud to ask Sam for help- until then, it seemed.

Sam approached with caution. The unfamiliarity of the situation made him slightly unsure. "What's up, Dean?" he asked casually. Dean sighed down at his book, then looked sideways up at Sam. "Calculus." Sam looked over Dean's shoulder and saw the very same problem he himself had painfully labored over hours before. He waited for Dean to continue, but Dean seemed to be struggling to proceed. So Sam spoke, twisting the hem of his shirt in his hands. "Well, do you...do you, um...do you want me to..help you?" "No, I want you to sing me a soothing lullaby." Dean snapped. "YES, I..I need..." He faltered for a moment. "I need you to help me!" he burst out. "Dammit Sam why do you have to make me say it out loud?"

Dean's obvious discomfort made Sam forget about any awkwardness. "Alright, I get it," he laughed, pulling up a chair. "Everyone needs help sometimes, no need to beat yourself up about it." Dean grumbled unintelligibly, but Sam couldn't help but feel excited. His big brother was asking HIM for help-for once. Eager, he leaned for another look at Dean's paper. "What do you need help _with?" _ Dean grimaced, obviously experiencing a blow to his pride. But when he took in Sam's apparent happiness, he seemed to give in. "This." he sighed, gesturing with a pencil. "This one." Sam nodded slowly. "That one's tough." he agreed. Dean huffed a small laugh, surprising Sam. "Tough?" He shook his head. "Sammy, I think a stronger choice of words is necessary. Try impossible. Try, _the spawn of satan_." He rubbed his forhead. "Jesus, if it were up to me, we'd be exorcising this bitch." Sam chuckled. "Come _on_ Dean. If you can kill three Wendigos single handedly, you can do this." Dean raised his eyebrows teasingly. "Who said this was easier than ganking three Wendigos? This shit is _hard_, man." Sam rolled his eyes. "Dean for God's sake, you're just as smart as I am, you've just had bad circumstances." Dean began to protest but an idea struck Sam. He poked Dean's shoulder. "No, quit arguing, I have a brilliant plan." He waited until he had Dean's attention. "If you do this, I will get you pie." There was a pause, and then Dean's megawatt grin lit up the room. He slapped Sam on the back. "You sure know how to motivate a man, Sammy." He cracked his knuckles and rolled his shoulders. "You got yourself a deal. Let's solve this son of a bitch."

As it turned out, all it took was a couple hints from Sam to get Dean on track, and then he was off, scribbling away like a madman and muttering to himself. Sam watched Dean work with his chin in his hands and marveled that his big brother could ever doubt his own intelligence. Only the smallest of errors had caused Dean's distress, but once Sam put him back on the right track, Dean worked through the problem surprisingly easily. Around the middle of the problem, Sam blurted out, "You really are smart, you know." Dean looked up, resurfacing from the sea of numbers he'd been immersed in. Not appreciating the distraction or its subject, he glared at Sam. "Sam. Calculus." he said firmly. Sam shook his head. "I mean it. I know you think you aren't, but it's true. There isn't anyone else I know who could handle everything you do and still be at this level." He leaned forward towards Dean, who was attempting to ignore him. "And I'm going to keep telling you until you believe me and reminding you so you don't forget." Dean's resolve softened for a moment at his little brother's adoration. "Sammy.." He sighed affectionately, and ruffled his brother's hair . "No chick flick moments." he said finally, and winked. "Especially not when I'm on a mission to solve the spawn of satan and get me some pie." Sam sat back smiling. "Fine. Go kill that monster math problem. Then you'll get your goddamn pie, I promise." And Dean was at it again.

Eventually, Sam realized Dean no longer needed help, so he resumed reading his book. Not long after, a paper dropped onto his page, covered in symbols and formulas. He looked up. Dean was standing over him triumphantly, smirking. "You owe me a pie, bitch." Sam whipped the paper closer to his face dramatically. "Ah, yes, 100 percent correct, Mr. Winchester." he joked. "And with barely any help from me." he added, handing the paper back. Dean took it, and Sam glimpsed a hint of pride in his eyes before he turned to put away his books. "So, I'll want a large apple pie by tomorrow afternoon," he said to Sam over his shoulder "And while you're at it, throw in a couple Busty Asian Beauties magazines, _thank _you." Sam rolled his eyes. "Dean, you solved a calculus problem. You didn't conquer the universe." Dean laughed, pulling off his coat and heading to Sam's couch for the TV. "We had a deal, little brother." "And what does this deal have in it for me?" Sam asked, arranging his features into mock concern. Dean punched his shoulder as he collapsed on the couch with the remote. "A happy big brother." he replied. "And your guaranteed survival of my wrath."

When they'd finished watching Batman for what Sam was sure was the hundredth time, Dean turned to Sam as if with a second thought. "Hey Sammy? Thanks." he said, briefly putting a hand on Sam's shoulder. Sam blinked, then smiled. "Anytime." he said. As Dean stood to go to his room, Sam's voice followed. "I mean, really, anytime, Dean. If you ever-" "Moment's over, Sam." Dean called back, but he smiled nevertheless.

After their father came home that night and Sam lay in bed, watching Dean's sleeping form (undoubtedly with one hand on a knife under the pillow) he mentally revised his list of things he had always known about Dean. 1) Dean loved him, 2) Dean was stubborn, and, he realized, something that he never should have left out, 3) Dean, though not a lover of school as Sam was, was surprisingly, incredibly, and amazingly smart.


End file.
